


A Quiet Morning

by arthurmorgan-s-heart (Silverblind)



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Post-Canon, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Spoilers, it's what he deserves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 11:44:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20563757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverblind/pseuds/arthurmorgan-s-heart
Summary: *SPOILERS* Arthur tries to get you back to bed - it works.





	A Quiet Morning

**Author's Note:**

> This is a request fill from my tumblr blog. Uploaded here for convenience - find me on tumblr - arthurmorgan-s-heart
> 
> Original request text: "Pregnancy sex with Arthur and his female s/o? He wasn't around for Eliza when she was pregnant and he's doing his damnest to be right by his wife and be close to her. Let's say that he survived the game. Thanks!"
> 
> Didn't think I was still horny for cowboys, and yet here we are.
> 
> Haven't written smut in ages, hope this is still somewhat ok!

The mornings are never cold in the cabin you share with the man you love.**  
**

The room is still dark when your eyes flutter open, and you’re so comfortable that you want nothing more than to close them again and go back to sleep, though you know you shouldn’t. You feel Arthur’s warmth behind you, his arm wrapped loosely around your waist, his hand resting on the slight swell of your stomach. You brush your fingers over the back of his hand lightly before you carefully slip from his grasp, earning nothing from him but a quiet groan as he immediately settles back into sleep. You put one hand on the curve of your belly as you push yourself up to sit on the edge of the bed - it’s not yet big enough to hinder you, though you know that’ll soon change. The house is quiet and still - that, too, will be different soon. You turn your head to look at Arthur, and though he is but half a shadow in the morning gloom, you can’t help but smile at seeing him so peaceful - you still remember the days when he’d come back to camp after days away, exhausted, worrying about ten thousand things. Those days seemed half a dream now, remains of a time long past.

You stand up with a quiet huff of breath, tiptoeing toward the half-open door on bare feet, but a voice calls your name from the bed before you can reach it, low and rough and laden with sleep.

“Come back to bed, sweetheart.”

You turn around just in time to see Arthur sit up, offering you a sleepy smile as he leans back against the headboard.

“Gotta start the day at some point, you know,” you answer, teasingly reproachful, putting your hands on your hips.

“Sun ain’t even up,” he replies. “Come here.”

You comply with an exaggerated sigh, though you can’t quite hide the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips. His hand hooks around your waist once you’re close enough, drawing you down to sit on the edge of the bed before he kisses your forehead, trailing his lips between your eyebrows and down the bridge of your nose before laying a feather-light kiss at the tip. “Still got some time to sleep,” he whispers.

You arch an eyebrow as you press closer to him, climbing up on the bed to straddle him. Even through the blankets, you can feel a hot, hard line against your thigh.

“Sleep, really?” you ask impishly, and you feel his hands settle at your hips, warm and comforting.

“If you want,” he breathes, leaning forward to press an open-mouthed kiss just below your ear before tracing a path down the side of your neck.

“And if I want somethin’ else?” You lean your head back as he trails his lips to your throat, teasing the delicate skin with the barest touch of his teeth.

His hands leave your hips, slipping lower, and you can’t help a startled laugh when he gives a slight squeeze.

“That’s alright too.”

The feeling of his stubble against the skin of your neck has sparks dancing in your stomach, and you push yourself down against him, earning yourself an approving groan as he angles his head up to meet your lips for a kiss. His hands smooth up your back, coming up to your shoulders before trailing down again, fingers tracing the line of your spine. Your arms come up to surround his neck as you grind yourself against him in a slow, lazy rhythm - but there’s still too many layers between you, and you give a pleading whimper as he rolls his hips up into yours.

“What’s that, darlin’?” he chuckles breathily against your lips, and you growl playfully, scratching your nails lightly at the back of his neck.

“You gonna keep a pregnant woman waitin’?” you ask, and you yelp in surprise when he twists his hips, making you fall on your back next to him as he pushes the covers off himself and comes to kneel over you.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispers as he bends down to kiss you again, holding himself up with one hand next to your head while the other brushes down the side of your neck before dipping down to your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipple lightly through the thin fabric of your nightgown. You moan and arch into his touch as your eyes slip closed, earning yourself an open-mouthed kiss against your throat as his hand reaches further down, pausing when he feels the swell of your stomach beneath his fingers. You feel him draw back slightly, and you open your eyes to see him looking down at your belly, his touch now barely felt, as if afraid that he might hurt you. You bring your hand to his cheek, and he almost seems startled by your touch as you angle his head up so that you can meet his eyes.

“You alright?” you ask softly, and he takes a deep, steadying breath before answering.

“Yeah.” He leans down to kiss your lips chastely, and you smile when you feel him press his palm fully to the curve of your stomach. “Just - Can’t hardly believe my luck, sometimes, is all.”

You laugh warmly as he kisses your cheek, his hand lingering on your belly for a moment more before straying down between your legs, your laughter trailing off into a moan when he presses two fingers against you through the thin fabric of your underwear. It’s his turn to laugh when your thighs clamp around his hand to keep him in place, a low, rumbling chuckle that has you smiling impishly. He presses his lips to your temple as he moves his fingers back and forth with just the right amount of pressure for you to rock your hips against his hand, seeking more friction.

“Arthur… please…” you breathe when his thumb comes up to press at your center, tracing slow, deliberate circles, humming against your skin when he feels you grind yourself against his fingers. “_Please_…”

You squeeze your eyes shut when a bolt of pleasure surges through you, arching up against him to the best of your ability, hooking one hand at the nape of his neck to bring him closer to you, and you shiver when he presses his lips to your skin, soft and warm and slow.

You feel your pleasure build steadily, each moan and gasp he wrenches from you bringing you closer and closer to falling apart - your hands grab at the back of his head, gripping fistfuls of his hair as he kisses your neck. Just a few moments more, a few seconds…

He stops suddenly, and you can only whimper in protest, pulling at his hair as you feel both of his hands pull your underwear down your legs. He laughs quietly, kissing the underside of your jaw as his hands smooth back up your bare thighs.

“Soon, darlin’,” he whispers. His breath hitches in his throat when he feels your hands leave his hair to reach down to his pants, fumbling for half a second before he gently grasps your wrists, bringing them back up to press them down on either side of your head. “Let me do the work.”

“I can do it,” you huff, and he laughs softly.

“I know, darlin’,” he says as he rolls off you and stands up, making quick work of his pants and throwing them aside. He climbs back in the bed and comes to hold himself above you again, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. “I know.”

You reach down between the both of you as he pushes your nightgown up, and you hear his breath hitch in his throat when your hand closes around him, the involuntary jolt of his hips telling you that his patience was wearing thinner than it seemed. You stroke him slowly, and he groans against your ear, pushing himself into your hand as he abandons all pretense of wanting to tease you. Without a word, your free hand goes to press at the small of his back, guiding him closer to you, until he’s against you, and you hear him release a shuddering breath as he slowly pushes himself forward. A thin moan escapes you as you feel the familiar warmth of him inside you, bringing both of your hands up to grab at his shoulders as you kiss his cheek, whispering quiet encouragement.

“_God_,” he hisses when you angle your hips up toward him, drawing him deeper. You laugh breathily, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin as he tracks kisses along the length of your collarbone, one hand coming up to find your breast before smoothing down over the curve of your stomach to settle at your hip as he sets a slow, lazy rhythm, drawing a quiet moan from you with every deep thrust. His eyes are open, looking at you, tenderly, adoringly, and as he leans in to press his forehead against yours, it seems to you you’ve never felt as whole as you do now.

Your pleasure builds slowly, unhurriedly, like a wave coming to crash on the shore, and when Arthur reaches between your legs, touching you in just the right way, it rolls through you effortlessly, leaving you breathless as you come apart in his hands. You shudder against him, pressing your lips to his cheek as you feel him near his end as well. His thrusts are coming faster now, and his eyes are squeezed shut, but you know he’s still holding back, gathering every remaining thread of his conscious thoughts to be as gentle as he can - he is always so afraid to hurt you. Your hands find his cheeks, cradling his face, and his eyes flutter open, meeting yours. 

“It’s alright, Arthur,” you breathe, and you feel his hips stutter as his rhythm becomes erratic. “I’m alright.”

You draw him toward you for a kiss, and he groans against your mouth as his pleasure overcomes him, giving a few more uncoordinated jolts of his hips before he stills. You thread your fingers through his hair as he catches his breath, kissing his lips, his cheek, his jaw, keeping him against you for a moment before he lifts himself off you and falls on the bed next to you, drawing you against him. He kisses your cheek as his hand finds the curve if your stomach, and you hum contentedly, allowing the silence between you to stretch for a few more minutes.

“What you thinkin’ about?” You finally ask after a long while, turning your head to look at him.

You see him smile - the smile of a man who can’t quite believe what he’s seeing, can’t quite believe where he is.

“Just that I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he answers, propping himself up on one elbow, reaching for your jaw so that he can turn your head toward him and kiss your lips. “Truly.”


End file.
